Dead hookers and syringes

Dead hookers and syringes - the name of my new band. So today was fun. (Sarcasm people)

I managed to get a little work done and then the kids off to school, Dave off for a last minute flight to deal with some shite going down at one of his sites and then BAM. No power. For seven hours. No internet, no lights and NO FARKING HEAT. My phone was fully charged but it's a droid so that bastard won't stay charged that long (I blame angry birds). So I had to baby my phone.

At first it wasn't a biggie. I did some school work until my laptop died. I thought about going to town for a soda and snack, except couldn't figure out how to open the garage door manually. I suck at manually things. Then Murphy and I had a staring contest. Then I used precious cell phone battery to harass the power company. Then I found out the entire town is out of power due to an incompetant line worker, I hope he gets no Christmas bonus.

I started getting bored. I painted my toe nails. I walked Murphy. As the house started getting cold, I fought him for the right to lay and read in the one spot of sunlight streaming through on the livingroom carpet. He won. He has more teeth than me. I then coax him into snuggling with me under my blankets while mentally going through my kitchen looking for something to eat. When your cold and wearing two sets of clothes, you don't want to eat anything cold so that pretty much left out everything. Murphy started looking yummy but then I remembered the organic peanut butter. Yummy, we ate half a jar. He likes it too, except it gets stuck in his beard.

I tried to take a nap, but the damn woodpecker was back. Yes, cause living in a log cabin is just apparently Disneyland for woodpeckers. So in my cold, starving state I took my pistol outside and shot at him as he was flying away. I kid you not. Cold and starving with no sugar in the house is not a good mood for me. Didn't help that his evil twin was back hammering outside my bedroom an hour later. Sigh......

I finally get power, I do a little work. I turn in a 15 page research paper on the culture impact of international organizations on organizational culture. Yeah, it took so long to write because it's like knock out meds, prescription strength. The kids come home as house is heating back up. We made mexican, it was yummy.

Prin and I managed to knock out the math homework, ALOT of homework in Idaho dayum. Duchess and Prin also got to watch the Grinch.

Then Dave called. Hotels.com screwed him out of his hotel and there was literally NO available room in a tri-city area. He's looking, I'm looking and finally he called and tells me found a room. In wife mode (which is where I'm doing twelve other things and absent-mindedly talking to him) I ask if it was a good deal.... his respond...

Yeah, the sign outfront might as well say "rooms come with a dead hooker and syringe"....

After I cleaned all the coke zero off my screen, and managed to stop coughing... I reminded him to A: don't shower there (think NORMAN) and B: don't change clothes there and finally C: do not get under the covers for any reason.

Poor guy.

But that is seriously my new catch phrase and when I start my own band, that there's the new name.

Dead hookers and syringes.

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